


Exceeding Expectations

by angelwing



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gary being a piece of shit like usual, M/M, Past Abuse, Polyamory, Warming Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 05:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3756766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelwing/pseuds/angelwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieren out of the house meant Rick and Simon had the place to themselves for the evening. Kieren was mixed about leaving them alone. That is, mixed between anxious and terrified. But he supposed it was good to give them time alone together. After all, while Kieren and Rick had had an entire childhood to develop an incredibly intimate, close relationship where they knew everything and understood each other and their separate and combined pain and struggles, and Kieren and Simon had so much in common and had endured so much in such a short amount of time that they had quickly formed an inseparable bond, Rick and Simon were still just barely figuring each other out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exceeding Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> It's so late at night and I have so many other things I need to do I can't believe I spent like 3 hours on this oh my gosh. I'm trash I love these three as a pairing so much I just want to write about them all being cute for forever omg.... Anyway, try to ignore any errors, I've done my best to edit it but y'know are things are - I'll be rereading this tomorrow and editing anything huge that I notice at least - and please enjoy!!

Kieren was spending the night with his parents. “No matter how many boys you end up dating, just make sure you don’t forget about us,” Sue had said once. Kieren had promised he wouldn’t, and he kept true to that promise, because he spent one night every week or two at his parents’ house. With Jem off to uni, he felt it was his job to visit as frequently as he could and be there for both of them.

And for a living, middle-aged, heterosexual couple, they had been as supportive and accepting as possible upon discovering that their undead son was moving in with two other undead males, both of whom he was in a relationship with at the same time.

But Kieren out of the house meant Rick and Simon had the place to themselves for the evening. Kieren was mixed about leaving them alone. That is, mixed between anxious and terrified. But he supposed it was good to give them time alone together. After all, while Kieren and Rick had had an entire childhood to develop an incredibly intimate, close relationship where they knew everything and understood each other and their separate and combined pain and struggles, and Kieren and Simon had so much in common and had endured so much in such a short amount of time that they had quickly formed an inseparable bond, _Rick and Simon_ were still just barely figuring each other out.

That was the problem, really.

They weren’t competitive exactly. Both had Kieren’s equal love and affection, and they were not scared of losing him to the other. But they both had their own set of insecurities, and both did worry about their ability to be as good of a lover to Kieren as the other was, for Kieren’s sake. Simon saw the bond that Kieren and Rick had, the way they understood each other so well, could practically read each other’s minds, the way they had countless memories and experiences together that had shaped them and their relationship as both best friends and lovers. And Rick could see the intimacy between Kieren and Simon, could practically feel the intensity of Simon’s adoration and love for Kieren whenever they touched, whenever Simon gently stroked Kieren’s cheek before leaning in for a kiss.

And even without those insecurities, without the constant worry that perhaps, just maybe, the other was doing a better job of loving Kieren, they just _clashed_.

Simon was hard to communicate with unless you knew him (and even then it could be a struggle). Despite the poetic way in which he spoke, there was a tendency for his words to be awkward or poorly timed. He struggled to get his emotions out verbally, and he was too blunt sometimes, but too vague at other times. And he depended on and relied on structure and order, always walking on a thin line between his own comfort zone and proudly going against the shit that was society’s rules.

But Rick was so… _much_. He liked to be loud. He liked positive attention. He liked to talk. He was excitable and loved jokes and making people laugh. His father had stunted his ability to be perfectly open with his emotions or free to behave the way he wanted, but he had not been able to take away who he was, and with Bill gone he was more open than ever. And he was always ready for something new, to embark on some exciting new adventure.

Rick and Simon relied on Kieren being a point where they could meet halfway. He fit them both, could understand both of them and communicate with them in ways that fit their separate needs. But without him, they were left flailing, unable to find a middle ground or a way to properly interact that did not lead to an awkward silence or some sort of argument.

Tonight, however, things went well. At first. In fact, it was their new record for how long they had lasted together without Kieren before something bad happening. Disaster didn’t strike until around eight, when Rick and Simon went out to the store.

All three of them had begun to warm up, just a bit. Kieren the most. He was able to feel again, he said, just barely, and he had complained about Simon leaving the window open in the bedroom, which meant he was aware of temperature. But the biggest and most exciting change was the fact that about a week ago, he had complained about being _hungry_ for the first time since he had died.

He hadn’t been able to keep anything down, but the fact that he had experienced it at all meant something. And the next day, he _had_ kept down a glass of milk. So he was getting there. He was able to eat soft foods, mashed potatoes and pudding and ice cream, but only small portions at a time. That was what Rick and Simon went out for. Food for Kieren (and them, eventually).

Simon would not wear cover up mousse. Rick didn’t around the house anymore, but he still went out with it. Simon did not comment, didn’t know Rick well enough to feel safe commenting, knew that Kieren wouldn’t be happy if they got into a fight.

The store was not busy. It was late. The two walked down the aisles in silence, not speaking to each other except for when one thought of something Kieren might like.

“You think he’d want applesauce?” Simon asked, breaking the silence between them.

Rick shook his head at that. “Nah, Ren always hated that shite. Said it was like baby food.” He gave a laugh.

Simon hummed, but said nothing else. There was an odd, uneasy feeling in his stomach that he didn’t like. Rick knew Kieren so well. Better than he would ever be able to. No amount of jumping in front of bullets could give him an entire lifetime’s worth of friendship and bonding, of childhood games and secrets and stories.

“Hm, well then, what do you think he’d like?” Simon hadn’t expected his words to sound as bitter as they had.

Rick instantly heard the tone, he had always been good at detecting tones, and furrowed his brow. “Hey, something up? I was just saying…” He gave Simon an odd look, confused.

Simon sighed, feeling guilty, but still unable to shake the doubt that had formed in the pit of his stomach. “Look, maybe we should split up. You search that side of the store for things Kier might like, and I search the other. Would that work?”

There was a look on Rick’s face that Simon could not read - Simon had never been good at reading expressions - and he stared at him, trying to figure out what had caused the problem. Because there _was_ a problem. “Er… right, that’s fine.”

The two proceeded to go their separate ways.

 _That_ was when disaster struck, in the form of a man named Gary Kendal, whose plans to spend the night with the pretty girl visiting from the city had gone awry upon discovering he was out of any sort of suitable alcoholic beverage, and thus a quick, late night run to the store had been necessary.

He ran into Rick in the back of the store. Rick was trying to remember which brand of yogurt Kieren preferred, when he heard a voice call, “Oi, Rick! Thought you lot didn’t eat.”

Rick jumped, surprised to hear his own name, and turned. He frowned awkwardly as he saw Gary. For some odd reason, Gary did not treat Rick terribly. He supposed it was because he was too daft and insensitive to realize that the act he had put on for years, his desperate attempt to be socially acceptable in his father’s eyes by putting up with Gary’s shit, laughing at his jokes and going along with whatever awful thing he decided to do, had been nothing but a way to keep himself safe.

“Oh, uh. Hey, Gaz.” There was a sort of uncomfortableness in his tone that he tried to hide, because the last thing he wanted was to start something with Gary right now. “I’m, uh… I’m not shopping for meself.”

“Then who’re you out for?”

Rick sucked in a breath. If his skin were natural, and not just a thick layer of makeup, he would have paled. Years of instinct and coping mechanisms replaced any logic or reason and he replied in an instant, “My mum. She wanted me to run out and get a few things.”

Gary nodded at that, seemingly pleased with this response, as he turned towards another aisle. “Gotcha. Well, see ya, mate.” He began to wave him off, when he stopped, and turned once more to Rick. “Just a heads up, there’s a rotter in here. Irish one with dark hair. Saw him when I walked in a minute ago. I know this one personally, real dickhead. I guess meds don’t work for ‘em all, eh?” He laughed.

Rick blinked, face remaining blank but hands trembling just a bit. “O- Oh? Thanks for the heads up! Always good t’be on the lookout for rotters, huh? They’re everywhere nowadays.” He forced a small, weak grin and quickly turned back around to face away from Gary, unable to look at him anymore. He listened instead, hearing his footsteps as he walked down the aisle and away from him. Once he felt he was a safe distance from him he turned back around, breathing out a sigh of relief.

Halfway through the sigh, he choked and froze, dread washing over him in an instant and making him incapable of moving or even forming a coherent thought.

Simon stood there, watching. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open, just a bit, and there was an emotion in his eyes that he himself was probably not aware of. He looked hurt. _So_ hurt. And angry.

“Si!” Rick greeted, voice weak. “Th- Thought you were on the other side of the store?” He chuckled weakly, taking a step back, begging Simon to respond, to act normal, to pretend that that entire exchange hadn’t happened. Desperate, he added, “Y’hear all that…?”

“I was going to ask if Kieren liked oatmeal.” Simon said, voice completely devoid of emotion.

Trembling just a bit, Rick leapt at the opportunity to try to fix this. “Y- Yeah? Uh, I think he does, I-”

“-But now I’m not so sure I should be talking to you at all.” Simon added, unapologetically talking over Rick. “And I don’t know if I want Kieren talking to you, either.” He turned at that and walked away, not waiting to hear an explanation from the younger boy.

Eyes wide, Rick instantly ran after Simon. “Si, wait!” he cried, nearly on the verge of panicking but trying desperately not to show it. “Si!” He was ignored, Simon acting as though he had not even heard him. Rick quite literally followed Simon home, begging for even acknowledgement until his voice was sore and he was putting all of his energy into not crying.

But he didn’t cry. Because Rick had learned years ago that crying was weak, and crying got you punished. So Rick didn’t cry.

But when they arrived home, at the bungalow, he instantly broke down. He didn’t cry, but he collapsed, sitting down on the sofa and staring at the wall, body trembling all over, taking in deep, uneven, shaking breaths. He reached to his own face, let his fingers trail over his made up cheek. Mousse rubbed off on his fingers and it sickened him.

Simon ignored him, walked past him, towards his bedroom.

Rick tried to call out one last time.

“Si, please. I- I didn’t mean it. It was just instinct.”

Simon froze.

He turned, staring at Rick, searching his face to try to figure out what that word choice had meant. Rick let out a little squeak, aware that he had Simon’s attention, finally, and now unsure of what to do with it. “I- I dunno how to act around other people.”

If Simon had been curious before, he was downright completely and utterly confused now. He stared, not understanding, part of him wanting to slap Rick, ask him how the hell he could say such a thing when he was one of the best people pleasers, the best at understanding people and relating to people and connecting with them, he had ever seen.

Rick kept trying, not wanting to lose Simon now. “I mean, I… I spent forever. All me life. Trying to act like me dad wanted. I guess I… I freeze up, when I’m in situations like that. I think, _‘What would dad want me to say?’_ ” He looked down at his feet now and sighed. “I dunno. I guess it’s not an excuse. I let people like Gary say shit about Ren. Shit about _you_.”

“No, it is.”

“What?”

Simon walked over, and, after staring at Rick for a moment, taking in his appearance, sat down beside him on the couch. “It is an excuse. You… what you went through. It’s damaging. And that’s okay. It’s okay to be damaged.” And then, very quietly, he added, “We all have our scars.”

Rick blinked. “You think so?” he asked. “B- But… but you don’t hurt Ren. When you and him talk and stuff, you’re so sincere with him, and he looks like he trusts you so much. He can’t trust me. H- Had to learn not to trust me, to keep himself safe.”

Simon nodded. “You aren’t perfect, Rick. But neither am I, and Kieren is still willing to love me. And still loves _you_. That should say something, right?” He sighed. “I’ve never seen a relationship like yours and Kieren’s, Rick. You two are so close, it’s… amazing.”

“Yeah?” Rick smiled. “Y’know, when we were about sixteen, Ren had t’have his wisdom teeth pulled. Next time I went over Sue started laughin’ at me, told me that while he was under, all drugged up and shit, all he did was talk about me.” He chuckled just a bit at that. “I made fun of him for forever over it, but then, a few years later, when we were old enough t’drink, the first time I got drunk I did the same thing. Talked about his arse and shit, really gay things like that, right in front of him. He promised he’d never bring it up again if I’d finally let the wisdom teeth thing go.”

Simon hummed, smiling. “That’s what I mean. You two have so many stories and experiences. Your entire lives revolved around each other. I can’t say the same for Kieren and I. We’re never going to have that.”

Rick shrugged. “I guess… It’s not like we were happy all the time, though. I dunno if you realize. It was…” He swallowed. “It was sort of hell.”

Any uneasiness Simon had felt was long gone now and replaced with pity and sympathy. Amy and Kieren had explained what had happened, but he had never heard the story of Rick Macy’s second death from Rick Macy himself.

“We had t’hide so much. And I was scared all the time. N- Not just for me and Ren. I was scared for me mum too. She sort of knew, I’d told her some things. Told her about me and Ren. But then I realized that I was being an idiot and not thinking about her safety…” Rick’s hands clenched into fists. “She was always there for me, when I was a kid. Always talked to me when I needed it and let me tell her things and wouldn’t ever let dad know…”

Simon nodded. “Your mother seems like a good person.” He had only met her briefly. She had been sweet, and she had called Simon something along the lines of “quite the gentleman” but, jokingly of course, warned him that it would be hard to deal with two teenage boys at once. She had also told him to take care of Rick.

He had done a pretty shit job of that, now that he thought about it.

Rick pressed his head to the back of the couch. “I didn’t even realize until it was too late how much she did for me. Didn’t realize as a kid, how many times she took whatever dad threw at her to keep me safe. Took all the blame for shit that was my fault.”

Simon shook his head. “None of it was your fault, Rick. Your father-”

“Oh yeah?” Rick sat up again, looking Simon dead in the eyes. “It wasn’t my fault that even though me dad told me a thousand times that I wasn’t supposed to bake, that it was too girly for me, that it’d turn me into a fag, that I did it anyway? And asked mum to help me? I asked her to help me do it secretly, so he wouldn’t find out, because I wanted to. _I wanted to_. She did it. ‘Course she did, she’s my mum and she loves me, so she did it to make me happy. But then dad- then dad finds out, and... and I should’ve been blamed. I should’ve taken the fall, because _I wanted to_. I did it even though dad said not to. But she took the blame instead. Said he was right, all those times he accused her of secretly wanting a daughter. Said she had made me bake. But she didn't. I wanted to.”

Rick began to cry.

Simon moved closer to him on the couch and, awkwardly, reached forward, gently pulling him closer, onto his lap and into his arms. After a moment of hesitance, Rick collapsed into him, burying his face into his shoulder, wrapping an arm around him to pull him into a tight hug, all but clinging to him, as he cried.

They were silent like that for a moment, Rick sitting in Simon’s lap, face buried in his shoulder and body trembling against him. Simon rubbed his back, let him cry in silence for a bit longer, before he said quietly, “You said you like to bake?”

Rick sniffled. “Mum and I would bake together when I was little. I’d help her bake cakes for her friends’ birthdays or bake bread for dinner that night. I always really loved it. I got to spend time with just my mum, and I really liked putting all the ingredients together and making things.

“B- But…” He closed his eyes, giving Simon a squeeze. “Dad found out I was doing it, and he got real mad, because you can’t bake and also be a man, I guess. I asked mum to keep letting me bake secretly, even though he told me not to, because I wanted to keep doing it.”

Simon sighed. “Your dad’s wrong, you know. You can bake and still be manly. You also don’t _have_ to be manly, if you don’t want to. All of that is up to you.”

Rick nodded against Simon. “I- I know that now, but… but I didn’t really have a choice back then. If I didn’t do what my dad wanted I’d pay for it somehow or another. If he said I didn’t do something, I had t’listen. Or I’d get hurt. O- Or mum would be hurt, f- for me.” He choked back another sob and buried his face again. “I couldn’t do anything dad thought was girly. I wasn’t allowed t’help mum with her flower garden, even though I thought it was fun to be outside with her, and I couldn’t write poems once dad heard about that either.”

Simon perked up just a bit at that, eyebrows raising as he looked down at Rick. “You write poems?”

“Not anymore. Didn’t ya hear me?”

“But, I mean… you used to?”

Rick shrugged and sat up a bit, sitting in Simon’s lap and looking at his face. “Er, well, yeah, a little. We did this assignment in class, where we had to write poems, and I thought it was really fun. Never showed anyone but mum my stuff, though. Maybe I showed Ren a few.” He shrugged. “Why?”

Shaking his head, Simon gave a smile. “No reason. I’ve just always liked poetry. Have you considered writing more someday?”

“Maybe?” Rick shrugged again. “I… My favorite thing to do was always bake. Poetry was just for fun sometimes. Baking was like…” He looked down, and Simon noticed with amusement that there was a small, shy smile on his face. “I sorta talked to mom about being a chef or something someday, for awhile. I don’t think I’d really do it, but we talked about it. Talked about how Ren and I could move to Paris and I could open a little French bakery there.”

Simon went silent, thinking for a moment. “What if you baked something now?”

Rick blinked. “What?”

“Kieren can eat again, can’t he? He’s getting better every day. Maybe he could handle something soft. Like cupcakes?” Simon watched Rick’s face as he spoke, feeling his smile widen just a bit as the the younger boy’s eyes lit up. “You think you still have it in you? We could probably even have a few tastes ourselves, we’ve both started warming up too, haven’t we?”

Slowly, Rick nodded, staring at Simon with a sort of shocked, overwhelmed excitement on his face now. “Y- Yeah.” he said weakly, unsure of how else to reply to this. Then, the reality of the offer sank in and he practically jumped up. “Yeah, yeah, we could bake cupcakes, so when Ren comes home tomorrow we can all eat them together!”

Simon stood up as well. “We should go back out before the store closes, then. To get ingredients.”

Rick nodded again. “Yeah! We’ll go get stuff and then come back and bake for Ren!” He began to walk towards the door when he came to a halt, frowning and looking down. “Wait, I gotta do something first.” He turned to the bathroom, walking over and shutting the door behind him. Simon waited, confused and curious, and a moment later he came out with his face completely natural, the mousse and contacts gone.

He held out a hand for Simon. “You ready?”

Simon stared at Rick’s face, pleasantly surprised, before smiling and taking Rick’s hand in his own. “Let’s get going. The store’ll close in just a bit.”

The second trip wasn’t nearly as bad as the first. In fact, it was quite nice. They quickly found everything they needed and went back home, and got to work immediately. They spent all night in the kitchen together, baking cupcakes. Rick remembered a large amount from his childhood, constantly recounting story after story of him and Janet baking together, reciting little tips and phrases she had taught him. Simon was useful because he was a perfectionist, and his attention to detail made sure that every measurement was perfect.

In fact, he made sure _everything_ was perfect. Because he wanted Rick to be happy. And Rick was happy, visibly so, laughing and joking as he baked, teasing Simon when he got confused or got flour on himself. He sang and bounced, and would frequently glance over to Simon’s face, making sure _he_ was happy too, asking him how he was holding up, if he needed anything explained.

By ten, the cupcakes were in the oven.

By ten twenty, they were out of the oven and sitting on the counter, too hot for a living person to touch.

By ten thirty they were in the refrigerator, waiting in a bag for Kieren to come home the next morning. They would clean the kitchen tomorrow morning, before Kieren came back. It was too late now, Simon said. They both had to sleep.

As they lay down for bed, Rick promised that next time Kieren went to see his parents, they would spend the night doing poetry things instead.

xxx

When Kieren came home the next morning, he knew his sense of smell was starting to return because he was instantly aware of what smelled almost like cake coming from the kitchen.

Curious, he wandered down the hall to the room in question, where he found it was a complete and utter _mess_. If it hadn’t been for the fact that the smell implied that something actually good at happened in here, his first thought would have been that they had gotten into a fight and ended up throwing cooking supplies at each other. He could imagine it.

But that was not the case. Whatever had happened here, it hadn’t been bad. He continued to investigate, searching around the bungalow for anything that might give an indication to what had taken place while he was gone.

Finally, he came to the bedroom.

Simon and Rick were laying in bed together. Rick was pressed up close to Simon, his face buried in his chest. Simon’s arms were around Rick, holding him close in an almost protective way. Kieren wasn’t sure if they had fallen asleep like that, or somehow managed to get into that position in their sleep, but either way, he smiled. The house wasn’t burned down, neither looked like they had been beaten up by the other, and they even looked _happy_.

“I’m impressed,” he said, entering the room. Simon opened sleepy eyes as he heard the other’s voice. “Didn’t expect to come home to find the both of you still alive. Er, partially.”

Simon smiled sleepily. “C’mere,” he said. He made a beckoning motion with his head. Rick murmured something sleepily against Simon’s chest, and Kieren grinned as he lay down in bed next to them both, cuddling up close to Rick’s back.

“So you two got along alright this time?” Kieren asked. He leaned in and kissed Simon’s forehead.

Simon nodded and glanced down to the still-asleep Rick, then looked back up at Kieren. He smiled, truly happy, because here he was, laying in bed with his two boyfriends. And he loved both of them so much. Even if he was just starting to figure them out. “Yeah… Yeah, we did, I think. It was nice.”

-end


End file.
